Scenes from potty training...

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd-Adelaide is 100% potty trained. Some nights she even remembers to get up and go and has a dry pull up in the morning (for Gillian, accidents ceased completely somewhere around 4.25ish yeards old). We even went to target a few weeks ago and got her regular big girl cotton underpants (she picked Dora, but if they had Diego, you can bet that would've have been her first choice). She wears big girl underpants except at nap and bed time, when she wears pull ups.

Of course, there were many sweet and pantless moments in the past 2 months since she started toying with potty training... like the night she brought a training potty full of excrement to the kitchen to share her awesomeness with us. She said "Look mama, I did it, ALL.BY.MYSELF!". Since then pooping has morphed into wanting to have me hold her hands if she's having a hard time and holding my hands if I tell her I'm trying to go potty (really it's so I can have some peace and privacy (never ever happens) but she takes it as I am having a rough go of it). But, anyway, she was about the same age as Gillian when she started, unprompted, to go on the potty. She prefers then big potty, and doesn't seem to have any hangups over #1 or #2 on the potty (Gillian had a few months of only wanting to poop in a diaper and pee on the potty). She likes to bid #2 adieu. I think potty training being their idea worked best in our House of The Strong Willed. Now, if I could take the same tact with eating...I'm working on it.

Leave of Absence

Yikes, it's been a long time since I posted! Well, like is just swimming on by, and we have had a crazy dead -of-summer-in-the-middle-of-March the past two weeks and the week before that I went to California and the week before that the grandparents were in town (Nonni did us a huge favor by hanging out to help with the girls while I was in San Francisco)...so not much energy for posting. Lemme back up a sec.

We have had a fab winter...a bit bleak as far as sunshine, but it has been in single digits just a handful of times. I'll take it. Then these past couple of weeks-AAAAHHH! I mean, it all started with a little thaw, but we have had temps in the 60s-80s the past couple of weeks, 8 of which were in the 80s. We haven't missed a beat pretending it's August, digging out the sandals, dresses, short sleeves, sun hats , and sunblock.

We even got to celebrate our first Baby Wranglers Happy Hour on St. Patrick's Day (this looks quiet, but there were about 30 people at the playground that night)!

Addie is so excited about the weather that she acts like this in music class. Oh, wait, she always acts like this in music class...(can I tell you how her teacher reminds me so much of my mother that I get super nostalgic every single class? She is wonderfully silly, completely down to earth and unpretentious, and isjust absolutely fabulous...just like my mom was)


It's a far cry from this February day, though it was great for it's own reasons.

But, let's remember we are usually struggling to get out of the 30s this time of year, so we're giving thanks. And lots of it.

So, where to begin....Well, Addie never stops talking. She started unlocking her mouth with an imaginary key to give herself bites recently (not sure what that's about), and will still be belligerent unless we pretend every bite is going to see someone in our circle of friends and family...oh, and we started giving her tokens for doing chores like brushing her teeth, making her bed, putting her pacifier away without being asked, and staying in her bed at night. And after a whole week of this, she feels pretty awesome to cash in her tokens for a $1 toy in the Target dollar bins. Wish I had been smart enough to limit Gillian's shopping radius to this area, but alas, she has discovered that there are much more awesome toys to be had in other parts of the store (I try not to let Addie know that part exists). I rue that Gillian's barbie switch will be turned on, since last week she told me: "I like barbies now. Just today." when I questioned her wanting a princess bride barbie by the fact that she has a giant Disney princess barbie house and several princesses and princes and rarely ever touches them (btw-she chose to save her token money until she can buy the princess bride barbie-the kid has willpower).

Gillian is also in love with braids and wants me to braid it wet every time. That way it's "wavy". She actually gets a lot of compliments-it's softer and sweeter looking than a crimping iron from 1982 (see her hair in the beach pic, above). Needless to say, I need to get on the french braid wagon ASAP (confession: I am pretty terrible at french braids), because Gillian is a GIRL'S GIRL. As bossy as she is, she seems to be pretty beloved...I just got her first playdate request from the dad of a BOY at school. Huh.

Addie told our baby sitter within Sean's earshot the other day that "I don't like to eat my dinner because it makes Mama MAD!" and dissolved into fits of evil laughter (for the record-I don't get MAD, I get exasperated and leave the room. We haven't taught her that word yet). This doesn't bode well for adolescence at all. She deliberately is disagreeable to get under our skin. It takes supreme effort not to be annoyed by her efforts to annoy me. In fact, I have never heard of such a young toddler being so completely aware of their own evil powers and their desire to maniplate and BREAK YOU. She had two blisters on her feet the other day and was freaking out when Sean tried to get her in the bathtub-crying and throwing a fit because she was worried the water would hurt the blisters. So she was striking "trying-to-get-a-cat-in-the-bathtub" poses of resistance with the limbs for after whining for a couple minutes about how it would hurt. Sean has less patience than I do about reasoning with her, so he just picked her up and unceremoniously lifted her up (which served to heighten the feigned terror of putting the boo boos in the water) and Sean said "Come ON, Addie, will you just get in the bathtub, please?!?" and you know what she said?? She said "Oh, o-KAY, Papa". Like she was 14 and completely irritated by the entire exchange, except she doesn't know she's supposed to roll her eyes when she says that. And then she cackled like a little monster who loved making lots of trouble. Amazing. And-she loves to tell people this story.

It's ok with me if the warmth hangs around a while.

Just Love

Sad and depressed, Thursday night Gillian told me she missed spending time alone with me. Friday we went on a date, and our friend Darla joined us. Of, course, it was an evening of enlightened conversation. Darla gave Gillian her first recorded interview:


Gillian created new fashions with her napkin:

Gillian is a magnificent child. I love being her mother. ♥

Yesterday

When I was younger, I lived in a different world. I was fearless in a young kind of way. I was broke, and I didn't really care. I loved falling in love. I enjoyed wallowing in the turmoil of relationships ending. It resulted in beautiful art and poetry. I have always been intense, but it was completely unbridled back then, like some kind of wild horse. I was moving toward someplace, being in school, but the rest of my time was playing in bands, eating, drinking, and breathing music, and making art and writing in my journal. Time has tamed that, and age too. I have grown up, and find that not struggling the way I use to puts a damper on my direct line to untapped creativity.

I am meditating on that because last night I went to see Neutral Milk Hotel. I played on their second album what seems like an eternity ago (it was, in fact, almost 15 years ago). It was a spectacle because no one has heard from Jeff in many years and he hasn't toured before now since 1998. There is so much speculation as to why, and he packed up and decided to leave the whole scene after releasing a game-changing album. I hear Jeff in lots of other bands, like the Decemberists, who seems to have been wildly influenced by him. In 1997 my band toured with them (oh, what fun that was!) and another band and during that tour Jeff asked me to play uilleann pipes on the new album. A couple of months later, he flew me in to record in Denver. I stayed a week and a half or so, and it was intense and wonderful to be with this collective bunch of beautiful artists. We stayed with the Apples in Stereo-Robert and Hillary-and recorded in a studio in an industrial part of the city. We played a show one night. I was happy to be part of all that. But I also knew that for all the way we glorify bands and the beauty they give us, sleeping in a different bed every night, eating shitty food, and drinking too much wears on your after a while. And how you give and give and give. That wears on you too. But when you're young, it's an adventure.

After the show last night Laura (Elf Power) was standing out in the lobby, and I decided to say hello. After placing me in her ancient history files, she enveloped me as a very old friend and asked if Jeff knew I was here. I told her I didn't think so, so she grabbed my hand and took me backstage. He is the same as always. He didn't have a nervous breakdown like they said. I never believed that anyway. It was so excellent to see him, and although we didn't have much time to catch up we shared a little. He said he's always wondered what happened to me; he asked me what I've been up to, and I said "I vaporized into thin air" and he laughed and said "me too". During the show, some rude self-serving attendee shouted "where have you been?" and he answered "with the love of my life-I don't know, that's enough for me". We talked about what he's been up to (not for me to disclose-ask him yourself) and his plans (which, sorry to say, don't include more music tours) and my girls. and poetry. I told him I was glad he found the love of his life. I met his sister-in-law. He gave me his number in case I'm ever in NYC. I talked to Scott, who is a beautiful musician in his own right, too. Scott has a photo of his little girl taped to his guitar.

So, we all moved on. Laura said none of them do this much anymore, so I'm not the only one. Even the people revered for changing music forever have found other things to be passionate about. It's the natural progression of things. My thing (environmental health) is more stabilizing than music ever was, and I don't even have to bleed for people to get paid. I reckon that is what happened to all of us. That price is pretty high to offer yourself up night after night to entertain people. I look back at my young self all vibrant and beautiful and I have a moment of longing for all those fresh raw moments that shaped the rest of my life. But I wouldn't go back there if it would change the trajectory of my life and take away my babies. Not for all the fame on the planet and a million dollars.

Value

One of this kids in Gillian's school died this morning of brain cancer. He was in second grade. He struggled for a year with it until it swallowed him up whole at 6:45 this morning. She had come home last week with a little star attached to her dress button that said "pray for Jake", and we all prayed for Jake, and now he's gone home. That was the answer for that little baby soul. The one God sent here as a sacrifice to teach the rest of us all something about love-what you love, how you love it...why not to take for granted the things you love will always hang around waiting for you to figure out how to express your love.

These lessons are a little hard on people. I know a few things about losing people I love-they're all dead now except my gypsy sister. All I could say this morning when I collapsed into Sean was something about how people can forgive God for being selfish enough to take that baby back when he hadn't given all the joy back he could have given. That's such a human thing to say. It's born of grief-the grief I feel for his mother who has been fearing this day since he was diagnosed...who has prayed by his bedside for moments and days and months...who only wanted to watch him grow up to be a virile young man with his own joyful family. I felt that grief for a second, hearing the story about how he sweetly smiled in his last moments and how he was given last rites by Father Grassi. How no parent on this wide green earth should ever have to ask for someone to give their baby his last rites. But how beautifully he took them. How wise he was, glimpsing over the edge. The they said to him was "heaven is beautiful, and it's ok to go home." How his mother informed the school that "Jake earned his wings peacefully this morning."

I'm thinking about how we get tangled up with this place when it's a blink. We make castles in the sand. We build them up, these monuments of humanness, and they wash away in the ebb and flow of eternity. We are each a grain of sand, nothing more...but so beloved by the sea that our constructs fail the will of the lapping waves, and away we go. They say everafter is beautiful, and peaceful, and so.familiar. So his little grain was enveloped to be joined with everything that has ever been or ever will be--in the tapestry of peace that is the universe. Godspeed, peanut.

And so it begins...

I love company when I'm heading to the bathroom. I guess we all do. Addie is taking more of an interest in the potty, as is Hauk. Hauk has a frog potty, and Addie was sad she didn't, so I drew a bear on the front of hers (since lately she says she is a bear) and she helped color it. Addie now announces she is peeing in her diaper or that she has to poop. And she tells me to beat it when she has to poop, because clearly it requires concentration, and she doesn't need any distractions (thank you very much). This last bit was Gillian in the two months preceding potty training. She'd say-"I have to go potty. Mama go 'way."

Addie has some cloth pullups, and she wears them sometimes. We need to commit to this, but our lazy approach worked like a charm the last time. So, I am telling you-she is starting down the road to full blown toddlerdom, and her baby self if fading into the shadows-which makes me feel fatalistic about all of it. I sold our cloth diapers to a woman last night. And it was hard and made me want to cry, because if things were different, we could probably have that third baby. But it's expensive here, and our closest family is 1000 miles away. And that's the reality. *sigh*

Life in technicolor

I love this girl.... ♥

This.

Every now and then, I read something on parenting that makes me want to weep and laugh and sing "Amen, SING IT!". So, an article has been sweeping through my friends that did just that. I am pasting it below, but it originally appeared in the Huffington Post (by Glennon Melton, called "Don't Carpe Diem"). Melton muses that the struggle is the norm in parenting and bliss intermittently intrudes in the struggling to make the trip worthwhile.

I love her distinction between the duality of monotony of the grind and the transformational timelessness of being fully present, and fully grateful. I love this quote: "Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos."

It's funny how timely this article is. I was just talking to A&R about how mind-numbingly exhausting it can be, this parenting thing. And how NO ONE talks about it. And how if you talk about it, you feel like you are whining and that we really are only allowed to suffer in silence because everyone else makes raising children look like a cakewalk. And you might think "Jesus, I am alone here...I am clearly not doing this right or it would be less painful/exhausting". But truly, every single one of us has different challenges. I have never sugar coated here or sitting with friends what it has been to parent my girls, because I can't imagine being a person that makes someone else question their own skills by pretending everything is kittens and sunshine every second around here. Some days have more glitter that than others, but I totally get the idea that those Kairos moments pull us out of the haze that repetition and person-building can put a parent in.

So, we all want to cry some days. We all want to strangle our children when they keep laying down on the filthy, snow tracked wet, salty floor at the grocery store because you won't let them have something they want and don't need. We all have days like last Saturday when I was looking for my rental car keys for over 2 hours and collapsed into a stressed heap because our car was ready for pick up at the body shop and the rental car had to go back by noon or wait 3 days to return it (holiday) and it would cost something like $700 to replace the key....and then I asked Gillian "can you help me find it?" and she went right over to the cabinet and pulled them out from behind the DVD player. She put them there to "keep Addie from getting them"...I won't even consider that she did that on purpose because she wanted to go sledding too, but we were looking for 2+ hours, and Sean was mad at me for misplacing them, and I was defensive because I knew it wasn't my fault....or the times when the fighting and whining and back talk result in half the day in time out. I swear it is beyond the pale to create and reinforce the boundaries every single second of every single day. But we soldier on.

I want to hug all of you raising babies, because it sure sucks sometimes. And we ALWAYS feel like we have to qualify it with "but I would do it all again" or "but I wouldn't change it for the world" lest anyone think we could ever resent our little angels, even for a second. It's a tricky balance to do all this and not lose your soul. I hope I never tell someone the obvious-that their parenting the young ones is a blink in the grand scheme of life-and that they should enjoy it. Because DUH. And every comment like that reminds me of when asked about Gillian's traumatic entry into the world and I would try to share the pain of my birth experience, people would insensitively observe, "well, you have a healthy baby, and you are OK, so WIN-WIN! (stop bitching, you are fine! who cares what your vision of entering a completely new phase of life looked like!!!). It completely marginalizes your human experience into one self-righteous, smug little comment. Well, at the end of the day, and the end of my life, what I will remember about parenting are moments. All strung together into something I can wrap myself in to stay warm when I need warmth. To remember what the whole point was of all of this.

I like what Glennon said she will say to young mothers when she is the old lady at the grocery store:
"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Amen. Toast and lift eachother up. And celebrate this person-making/cultivating thing. The single most important job of all. After all-that person you laid the foundation for with your blood, sweat, and tears could change the whole world.

******************************************************************************
Don't Carpe Diem (Glennon Melton)
Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:
An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."

At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

Around the house

It's sooooo cozy with the snow coming down and the fireplace going and two little angels sleeping soundly in their little beds. I see snowmen and sledding in our future, but for tonight a couple more videos, since I made a major dent in my 2 year backlog over the weekend.

So, here's what a casual lunch conversation is like with Addie:


And here's how Gillian is doing on piano. She's reading music decently well after a year of lessons. Did I mention she begs to practice?  Seriously. And they both LOVE broccoli. I guess I deserve a break every now and then!

Gratitude

Yesterday I was sitting in music class with Adelaide, watching her twirl in the shower of bubbles and dance to the teacher's music and run joyfully around the room, her little curly ponytails bobbing with pristine innocence. I was struck by her purity, like lightening hit me. And I got teary, because parenting my Adelaide is probably the last time I will revel in the sweetness that is having a two year old. I just couldn't stop being grateful for this precious little girl God gave me.

This is my favorite age...because we can talk, and the abstract ways she is putting the universe together delights me and she is so simple and logical still in her thinking. She isn't manipulative, or conniving, or consciously selfish. She is pure emotion. Those days for Gillian are long gone, and though I love love love her, I miss her 2 year old self that was so completely unfiltered by her own desires.

When Addie feels overcome with emotion, she throws her little arms around my neck and tells me she loves me. Lately, she's been throwing in "you're beautiful" after "I love you SO much" for good measure. If that doesn't humble a person... and her sweet little kisses with the "mmmmmmmmmmm-mwa!" are the best, even if those wet little kisses make me sick constantly. If she doesn't have a good word for something, she makes one up. Like Cecegon ("what's a cecegon?", "it's a cecegon!"). She loves the simplicity of things and appreciates kindness. She is completely wide open, the way we all should be. The way we all were before we got our hearts broken or were disappointed over and over again or realized that people can be unkind. If we could keep holding on to that sense that love underlies the whole world, and that loving people can make anything better-well, then it would be a perfect world. She's just closer to the source, and because of that she is infinitely wise. Ironic how we all spend our entire lives trying and preparing to get back where we started.